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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25961884">Fragile</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/rocket_pop/pseuds/rocket_pop'>rocket_pop</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:02:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,914</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25961884</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/rocket_pop/pseuds/rocket_pop</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dream meets George's parents and can't help but feel anxious.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream &amp; GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>367</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Fragile</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>     To say that Clay was nervous was an understatement. He was awfully aware of the anxious feeling resting in the pit of his stomach, making him wonder if he would even be able to eat the dinner they were supposed to be going to. He sighs as he looks out the window to see multiple buildings rolling past him as George drives them to his parents house. His leg is bouncing up and down but he can't be bothered to stop it, the pattern helped to calm his nerves even if for a little bit. If George noticed how anxious Clay was, he didn't say anything; the car remaining silent save for the hum of the engine and George tapping his fingers against the wheel as they grew closer to their destination. </p>
<p class="">To be honest, Clay didn't know why he was as anxiety ridden as he was. George's parents were so nice to him the time they had FaceTimed together as a couple, welcoming him into their little family with open arms and offering embarrassing stories of George when he was younger (much to the dismay of George, and amusement of Clay.) He knew, that rationally, things would turn out fine. Rational thoughts didn't get the feeling to stop. He just wanted things to go right. To put it simply, Dream could be a bit of a perfectionist. It's the reason why he studied the YouTube algorithm for so long before posting a video, why he would spend hours practicing for MCC, why he had decided not to confess his feelings until George called him one night in tears, rambling on about how he didn't want to ruin their friendship and how he was sorry he felt this way at all. Planning things time and time again got him where he is today, and anything outside what he controls could be scary.  The sound of the car stopping gets him out of his thoughts, he turns to George who's already looking at him with a kind smile on his face. He reaches over to hold his hand, rubbing small circles of reassurance as he spoke. </p>
<p class="">"Ease up okay? They're gonna love you."</p>
<p class="">He nodded and managed to smile before getting out of the car and walking up to the house made up of red bricks. The door opens only a few seconds after George rang the doorbell, revealing a middle aged woman; George's mom. Clay didn't get a lot of time to look at her before she smiled widely and stepped aside to let them inside. </p>
<p class="">"Mark! They're here!" she shouts over her shoulder before turning back to Dream. He had practiced what he wanted to say, the things he should do to make the best impression on his partner's parents but the only thing he could manage was sticking out his hand awkwardly, only for her to come closer and embrace him in her arms. He flinches at the contact, hesitating for a second before returning the hug. </p>
<p class="">"It's so nice to see you in person, George talks about you all the time," she says when pulling away, earning a small embarrassed "Mum!" from George. Clay can't help but chuckle upon seeing his boyfriend's flushed face. </p>
<p class="">"It's nice to meet you too Mrs. Davidson."</p>
<p class="">"Oh please, call me Alice," her voice is soft, and it makes Clay let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, most of the previous tension gone. The smell of food only reminds him of how hungry he had really been, he skipped lunch because he couldn't stomach anything, too worried about how this night would go. George reaches over and grabs for his hand, he was nervous too after all. He gives it a squeeze as they walk into the kitchen. George's dad had always been a bit more intimidating as George had described, and Clay could believe it when he was greeted with the sight of a man taller than him, sporting grey hair and a fitted button up. And Clay's embarrassed because he's never felt so under-dressed before. He turns to Clay, shakes his hand and pats him on the back. He glances over to George before speaking.</p>
<p class="">"You could do so much better," he says. </p>
<p class="">"Dad-" </p>
<p class="">"I'm talking to Clay!" he says before letting out a hearty laugh, and Clay joins in, what was with this family and contagious laughter? </p>
<p class="">---</p>
<p class="">The night is going so well, at least in Clay's eyes. He can't even feel the nerves anymore, the anxious rot in his stomach becoming just a memory as he eats with George and his parents. They exchange stories about work, and how George's dad works in marketing, while his mom is a nurse. And Clay can't help but feel very inexperienced when talking about work, making Minecraft videos for a living was hard to explain to anyone who didn't spend a lot of their time on the internet, and proved to be a lot harder to try and explain to George's parents (who at this point, he was still trying his hardest to impress) but they didn't ridicule him, instead asking questions about the game, and giving him their full attention. </p>
<p class="">It was a stark contrast from Clay's own parents. </p>
<p class="">With his own parents, everything felt so <em>forced.</em> Everything just seemed so conditional.</p>
<p class="">Maybe I'll buy groceries if you take your brothers to school tomorrow.</p>
<p class="">Maybe I'll get back together with your mom if you do your chores. </p>
<p class="">
  <em>Maybe I'll love you if you become the person I expect you to be. </em>
</p>
<p class="">Clay blinks, and reaches for his cup, trying to quench his now very dry throat, only to realize that it's empty. Alice looks over to him when he puts his cup back down. </p>
<p class="">"Oh let me get that for you," she says with a kind smile, rising up from her seat. It takes him a second to process what was happening, the unsettling feeling in his stomach coming back before he forces a smile and waves her off muttering a "No it's fine, I can do it." He stands up from his chair a little too abruptly, stumbling over his own footing as he goes over to the sink to refill his cup. He figured that he needed some space from the table anyways, it all just felt like too much all of a sudden. He didn't understand how they could be so nice to each other, not a single insult disguised as a joke was thrown. How were they able to talk to each other without feeling like they're stepping on eggshells? Clay feels sick, he feels like he's intruding on a very personal moment with George and his family as he hears his loud laugh back at the table. He didn't deserve this, the happy and calm dinners with his partner's family. He knew he was going to ruin it with what he grew up thinking was normal. Only a matter of time until he messed up and offended George's parents, they would make him leave their house. And George would get so embarrassed because of him. His hands are shaking as he fills up his cup at the sink, the anxiety is back and he feels it gnaw at his stomach. </p>
<p class="">It all happened so fast, he trips over his own foot and crashes to the floor; cup still in hand. Glass shatters against hardwood, water spilling out before Clay has time to even react. He drops the now broken glass and looks at his hand to access the damage. Cherry red blood comes out of his hand quickly and Clay cries. Not even because it hurt, but because the night had been going so, so well and Clay had to mess it up and ruin one of Alice's favorite cups. He felt so embarrassed sitting there on the floor, crying his eyes out over a small wound surrounded in water and shards of broken glass. He needed this to go well, and he fucked it up. </p>
<p class="">"I heard something break, are you okay?" He hears Alice's rushed voice and he looks up to meet her face, she had just entered the kitchen. Her eyes widen and soften as she takes in the sight of Clay crying, still cradling his wounded hand. </p>
<p class="">"Oh honey, what happened?" her voice is smooth and comforting as she steps over to him, avoiding the glass on the floor, and reaches out her hand to Clay. </p>
<p class="">He grabs her hand using his uninjured one, almost pulling back when he realized that it was still covered in his own blood but Alice had already a firm hold on it, helping him up as he answered. </p>
<p class="">"I'm sorry, I tripped and I broke your cup," he cringes at the sound of his own voice, and Alice hushes him, a bit like how a mother would console a young child. Clay would've felt humiliated at this if it didn't feel so nice to be comforted. She leads him over to the sink, and if she's worried by the amount of blood coming out of his hand, she doesn't show it, turning back on the tap and letting Clay wash out his wound. He lets out a sharp breath because it stings, and makes him realize that the cut was a lot larger than he had originally- not big enough to need stitches, but big enough where it was worrying. He turns his attention over to where George and his dad are standing at the entrance of the kitchen, broom and dustpan in hand. He feels bad. Not only for having them worry, but for them having to clean up the mess that <em>he made. </em>George's mom is quick to tell George to go get the first-aid kit from the closet. </p>
<p class="">Selfishly, Clay was jealous of how well they were working together as a family. And another tear slips out of his eye, but it's still not from pain. </p>
<p class="">George comes back with a small white box with a red plus on it, handing it to his mom before helping his dad sweep up the glass from the floor. Alice turns off the tap, and Clay feels a bit grossed out at how the blood rushes out again. She looks at it for a second before opening up the kit, grabbing a bandage and paper towels from the kitchen counter. She pats the injury dry and wraps the bandage around his hand. Clay starts to realize where George got his caring nature from.</p>
<p class="">"I'm sorry," he stutters out, making Alice look from his hand to his face. </p>
<p class="">"Hey don't be sorry, accidents happen," her smile is genuine and Clay returns it, lips spreading in a small grin. </p>
<p class="">Alice seems pleased with this, "Now, why don't we go back to the table before the food gets cold?" Clay nods, and follows her, stepping over the towel that was laid out on the floor. </p>
<p class="">---</p>
<p class="">The rest of the night isn't quite as eventful, no more glasses were broken and no more tears were shed. Instead, they shared embarrassing stories and laughed. </p>
<p class="">And this time, Clay was able to chime in with stories of his own. He felt happy. His anxiety wasn't eating him up anymore. He needed this night to go good so he could impress George's parents and it did. He didn't mess anything up and he was glad. He was a part of this small and close family now and he couldn't ask for anything more. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope you guys enjoyed this, I'm not the best at writing and this was the first thing I've written in a little over a year but it was fun to write :) I'm open to requests so long as it's not anything with certain fetishes or ships they're uncomfortable with (ex. bad/sapnap) This is also my first time using ao3, so any help would be very appreciated</p></blockquote></div></div>
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